


Breaking The Doctor

by theprydonian_archivist



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Bloodplay, Bondage, Dark, Discipline, Hurt/Comfort, Kinks, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprydonian_archivist/pseuds/theprydonian_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master has his old friend right where he wants him, and he knows exactly what he wants to do. But the Doctor is not so easily conquered... especially in <i>this</i> way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Capture

**Author's Note:**

> First slash fanfic, hope you all enjoy! The slash gets more intense as each chapter progresses. Each chapter can be read as a separate story(although they all connect to the same plot line), so you can choose which extremity to read depending on your interests. Chapter three and four I recommend reading together.
> 
> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Prydonian](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Prydonian). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [The Prydonian collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/theprydonian/profile).

_I thought that all the other fan fictions out there do not properly represent the Doctor's opposition to sex. I just feel that his 'submission' and 'acceptance' is not right and I hope the following story is a proper prediction of what the Doctor would actually do in this type of situation. Hope you enjoy!_

 

The Doctor opened his eyes to a dark room. The corners were so enveloped with shadow that a pure white poster board would not be seen within its depths. His mind surged with a mixture of emotions- first that of curiosity, fear, curiosity again, and then confusion, all in a second. He stood up abruptly, quickly glancing around the darkness and feeling in his coat pocket for his sonic screwdriver. His eyebrows furrowed and one of them raised, an expression that was almost impossible to accomplish to any other being. The Doctor glanced upward, immediately recoiling and snapping his attention back to the ground. Above him was a very bright LED light; the only one in the room. The Doctor rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times until the stain on his retina had mostly faded away. He earned back his previous worries as something stirred in his chest, like bile rising in his throat. He swallowed it down, finding that his sonic screwdriver was not, in fact, in his coat pocket.

The Doctor stumbled around the circle of light for a few more minutes, careful not to stray into the shadows just in case they were filled with Vashta Nerada. Just in case.

A pair of dark, evil eyes watched the fumbling and confused Doctor with interest. They glinted with evil craftiness and the satisfying results of the Doctor's confinement. They were resisting the urge to quietly laugh with victory until the Doctor's fear had taken over his curiosity. Oh, what a show this was. Like waiting until his prey was fresh enough to pounce on, the Master silently moved backwards into the shadows to avoid detection.

The Doctor stared blankly out into the dark void, wondering where he was, if he was dreaming- no wait, timelords rarely ever sleep. But if he wasn't dreaming, then how did he get here? He grit his teeth with the failed attempt at finding answers, turning around suddenly and pacing the circle as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. He was beginning to get a headache from his constant strain to think when the quiet brush of a pant leg could be heard to his left. The Doctor turned around at once. _So something IS here,_ he thought triumphantly as a smile played across his face. The Doctor stifled it. As soon as he started looking at the spot where the sound came from, it ceased. Was it his mind? No, he definitely heard something.

**"Welcome back,"** a silky, low and rich voice whispered, as loud as a shout in the silence the Doctor had become accustomed to within the past ten minutes. He froze, his hand stopped on its way down from his ruffled hair. His skin went cold and his chocolate brown eyes were glued to the location of the sound, narrowing in fear. His numb limbs felt weak and heavy all of a sudden. Both his hearts pounded and all of his senses screamed at him to run away, get anywhere other than that terribly wonderful sound. The Doctor shivered- he knew that voice, _very_ well. It was the Master.

**"Miss me, did you, my Doctor?"** that evil, evil voice laced with deception chuckled lowly; so hypnotizing. The Doctor didn't move a muscle, beginning to feel his heartbeats pound against his ribcage. He heard the brush of a pant leg once more, this time not trying to be sneaky. His body yelled and screamed at him even more than before as an all-too familiar shape was lifted out of the shadows. The Master pouted mockingly, **"Aww, why so scared?"** he teased, twirling the Doctor's sonic screwdriver in his hand. He grinned madly at his little joke, straightening his black tie and slowly pacing the room like a shark.

The Doctor blinked the surprise out of his stunned eyes, turning his head to slowly follow the Master's snakelike movements while his body still remained immobile. After a few moments he regained the bravery to turn his torso around and slowly back away. The Master saw this retaliation and threw his head back, laughing. When he had finished, he stepped briskly towards the Doctor again, pulling out his laser screwdriver that was quite literally beginning to burn a hole in his front pocket. The Master shoved the Doctor's blue-tipped sonic back where the laser had been before. Flipping the switch, the screwdriver came to life and started to hum as it heated up. The poor stricken Doctor had been unfortunate to back up against the only side of his prison that was _actually_ a wall. Beads of nervous sweat ran down his forehead when he saw the Master's screwdriver. He gulped, his brown eyes sparkling with worry, fear, and sorrow.

The Master came to a stop about three inches from the Doctor's face. From this distance he could see the terror in his big sad puppy eyes. The Doctor had bent his knees against the wall and was _looking up_ at the Master for a change. He drank in the sight of him, relishing each moment that he was in control of his precious Doctor. His lips curled into a maddened smirk, lust fueling his very essence. **"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"** the Master chuckled, poking the Doctor's ridiculous nose with the tip of the burning laser screwdriver.

The Doctor convulsed in pain, letting out an adorably helpless squeak as his hands flew to his nose. It was reddened in three spots, arranged in a triangular fashion. He sat there rubbing it, his eyes misting with the continuous pain it brought him. But the Master mercilessly kicked out to the side, hard, with his right leg. It caught the Doctor on the side of his shoulder, knocking him over onto the hard, cold stone floor of the room. The Doctor groaned in pain, holding his jarred head as the impact echoed through his mind. The master, a blank expression on his face, pointed his laser screwdriver at the Doctor. The timelord looked up through all his agony and again his eyes narrowed with pure dread, almost driving him to tears at the sight of the three glowing barrels. **"K-Kosh, please...! Stop..."** The Doctor trailed off as another wave of pain thrust its way into his skull. His shoulder ached, his nose burned, his head screamed, and his old friend sat there preparing to deliver another blow. 

His attacker faltered at the mention of his name. His expression lost its fierceness for a split second, and then was back to harsh and merciless, his screwdriver only lowering for a moment. **"That is _not_ my name,"** the Master growled, threatening to activate his weapon. The Doctor flinched backward at the thrust, earning a satisfied smile from the Master. He twisted the ridged dial at the base of his laser screwdriver, and the light at the tip began to die down. His victim relaxed only slightly. The Master never retaliated, he knew he was up to something. He put the screwdriver away, leaving the Doctor very confused. He slowly began to come to his feet, and when his old friend gave no reaction, he raised himself completely into a standing position.

The Master took on his silky tone again, practically purring the words, **"Oh, Doctor,"** he cooed in a teasing way. He took the Doctor's blue sonic screwdriver from his back pocket, waving it lazily in front of the weakened timelord's face. The Doctor frowned and moved slowly forward, untrusting of the Master's offering. **"Don't you want your precious sonic back?"** He teased, the Doctor being pulled closer and closer to the tool that the Master began to hand to him.

Snatching it quickly, the Doctor grabbed his screwdriver and was surprised when the Master had made no attacking move. He just sat there, turning his head slightly to the side and smiling that wide smile. Raising his eyebrow again, the Doctor looked at the sonic. His fluffy hair hung over his face in little places as he looked down at the instrument. He turned it over in his palm and pushed the button to turn it on.

Spikes shot out of all sides of the tool, piercing the Doctor's soft flesh. He let out a sharp cry of pain, dropping the sonic screwdriver and holding his wrist, shaking his hand as it stung in a million places. His legs suddenly felt more numb than when he first saw the Master appear, and he looked up with horror at the Master, who waved giddily at the Doctor as his smile grew. The Doctor's legs wobbled and collapsed under him, sending their rider to the floor once more. He repeatedly attempted to stand, but the lower half of his body was completely unresponsive. In a few moments of the agony he was enduring, the Master was standing over him dominantly. Grinding his teeth, the Doctor tried to scoot away, but without workable legs it was no use. The Master chuckled maniacally at his failed attempt.

**"Don't worry, Doctor; I just need you not to run away as I show you how much _fun_ we're going to have..."**

* * *

The chapters are organized in Gen-Het-Slash order. so people who don't want to won't be scarred ;)


	2. The Bindings

Opposite of what he had last experienced, the Doctor's eyes opened to a blinding white light. He squinted and turned his head to avoid the glare, but something was fixing his face and permitting any movement- he couldn't even see what was restricting him. **"Hello? Who's there?"** the Doctor called out with his British accent. Memories of pain and terror fled back into him, and he saw the three yellow glowing lights of the laser screwdriver in his memories. He made a failed attempt to sit up, tensing his muscles and pulling at his new-found restraints. Blinking the light out of his eyes and grimacing, the bound timelord looked down- as best he could- to observe his restraints. He was sitting in a stiff metal chair, with his body closely pressed against it. There were strong, dark leather binds around his waist, his forehead, and his feet. His forearms were tied neatly with rough twine to lay at his sides, his still-wounded hands brushing against his hips. The Doctor realized as his eyes grew round that his legs were tied to the edge of the chair and were spread- purposely- wide apart. He exclaimed in protest, flailing with all his strength in an attempt to escape the leather bonds, but they were too strong.

The Doctor rested his head and looked up at the light as he squinted again, his chest heaving with the energy he had expended with his effort to break free. He ground his teeth in frustration, his dark brown eyes darting around himself, looking for any sign of an attacker. His whole body jolted in surprise at a little chuckle from a corner he did not have the access to see. His breathing came with a sharp, quiet inhale and a more audible, rattling and forced exhale. **"Master, let me go!"** The Doctor bared his teeth as he hissed at no place in particular, _knowing_ that the insane timelord was somewhere in the room at the moment. He struggled in the hard chair, which was beginning to make his tailbone ache.

The doctor felt his balance shift, but could not see any change in the blinding light above him as he moved. He was spun around abruptly on the spot, and his eyes relaxed with the relief from the bright glare. His hands twitched and he felt something like water, only on the inside instead of an outward sensation. He suddenly became sweaty, and he irritably looked side to side with need to raise his hand to wipe his forehead. But _blast,_ he seemed to be  tied to a chair. He grew more and more worried as the minutes passed and time went on, slower than he could ever imagine possible. The dank silence continued tortuously and restlessness added to the Doctor's worries. Finally, the Master showed himself, lithe and graceful. The Doctor wanted to back away when he saw the need and lust, just whispers in the back of the Master's mind.

The drum beat, never-ending and always in the recesses of the Master's mind, started to intensify. It grew faster and louder each moment he stared at his plaything from the shadows, as always enjoying the torture of wondering what was going to happen to one's self appear in the Doctor. He never failed to please; always to helpless and so wonderfully sad whenever he lost something precious to him. The Master let out a smirk as he allowed himself to think, _like his virginity._ After he felt that the Doctor had endured enough of this waiting, the Master tapped four beats the armrest of the black, soft leather chair he was sitting in. He started ever so softly, sounding like something that might only be in your mind. Then he gradually made it louder, intensifying, tapping along to the music in his mind. By now the Doctor was staring directly at where the Master was- right in front of his chair. **"They're getting louder, Doctor; the drums are coming closer."** He leaned back in his chair, letting the tight leather creak under his pressure.

The Doctor fought to act as nonchalant as possible in his current situation. **"I can't help you, Koschei."** he whispered, wishing _so_ intensely that the Master would not stay within the shadows all around him. He was extremely and scarily sneaky, and could not be trusted in the dark. Especially when the Doctor was being restrained by tough leather bonds in a hard, metal chair. He arched his back slightly to avoid touching the cold material.

The Master hissed back to him, anger mixed into his lustful tone. **"That... is _not_... my name!"** He growled, standing up to reveal himself, not leaving the Doctor one millisecond to process how he was so close and his voice had sounded so far. He raised a hand and it came down hard, slapping the Doctor so forcefully that his entire chair shifted, threatening to fall to the floor. The Master caught the top of the chair and pulled the back legs off of the stone floor, setting his jaw as he pulled the Doctor's reddening face close to his own. **"And you will not call me by that name,"** he hissed, grabbing the Doctor's collar and yanking him so close that their noses almost touched. The helpless Doctor looked up at the master past his eyebrows, his pupils round as disks with utter and complete terror. The Master leaned down to his left ear, biting the lobe playfully, eyes half closed. **"Tell me my _real_ name, Doctor..."** he whispered, grinning as he moved his left hand to hold the back of the Doctor's neck. Slowly, the Master moved his soft hands through the Doctor's untamed hair, chuckling quietly.

The Doctor drew in a breath and struggled, the Master's gentle teeth sending shoots of pain up his earlobe. The twine around his still stinging hands loosened, and with a small grin of victory he raised them to push the Master away from his ear. The Doctor fondled it carefully, massaging the marks that the Master had left in it. Immediately the Doctor went to work at untying his bonds, but the Master shoved both his hands forward, striking the chair next to the Doctor's head on both sides. The metal came falling to the ground with a loud _clang,_ and the Doctor stopped fumbling with the straps as his hands cradled his poor, abused headache. Opening his hands slightly, the Doctor realized with a whimper that he failed to untie his waist or leg straps- he was still being forced into a very open position. His attacker smirked with his dominant victory.

**"I'd advise you refrain from struggle,"** The Master chuckled, leaping forward and grappling onto the arms of the Doctor's chair. His smile grew as he stepped into the empty space between the Doctor's upturned legs, earning a look of dread from his captured prize. He thrashed around, but still unable to kick out with his feet and in a position that gave him no attacking leverage. The Master whipped out his laser screwdriver with a flourish and touched it to the Doctor's stomach, causing him to shout. He withdrew, pocketing the weapon and leaving the Doctor quieted and breathing heavily. **"There. Now, Doctor, tell me my name. Who am I to you?"**

The Doctor's mouth was slightly opened as he regained his breath. He looked directly at the Master, his eyes full of knowing and regret as he spoke. **"You are Koschei. You are my friend, and I won't ever stop thinking that."** His voice cracked with emotion, **"I just want your true self back..."** The Doctor trailed off as he winced, preparing for the inevitable blow. He knew damn well that his reply would not be appreciated.

His eyes, the Doctor's round, silky brown eyes; they were stories of countless losses over such a long time. They sparkled with just the right ounce of clever, and when needed could be filled to the brim with joy. But those deep chestnut optics were most powerful when hollowed, wide and empty with agony. The Master could see down and down to the very bottom of their pits, so hopeless and on the brink of tears. Those times when those eyes were kind and bright felt so thin, like a shaft of light so easily broken by shadow. The Master relished each time he could see into the thickness of the swirling darkness that lived inside the Doctor's wonderful, beautiful eyes. Time seemed to slow as he grabbed the empty timelord's shoulders, pulling the chair back up into its normal position. One of the armrests had been bent from the impact of the ground. The chair stopped, and the Doctor swallowed heavily. The Master just stared into his helpless eyes, drinking in each moment of his vulnerability. Nothing else could be heard but the Doctor's forced breathing, and the pounding of his two hearts. 

The moment was gone in a flash, and the Master dived down onto his Doctor's lips. He could feel the Doctor struggle faintly, unable to move within the strong grasp. The Master leaned into him, massaging the Doctor's lips with his own. He moved back for a moment to latch on to the Doctor's lower lip, penetrating the soft flesh and tasting the salty blood that welled from the wound. It tasted so wonderful. The Master pulled the Doctor's neck closer again, running through his hair, which was more bedraggled than usual. The Doctor was resiting. The Master felt a growl rise in his throat at how long it was taking for him to relax. Pushing his tongue into the Doctor's mouth, the Master felt a sound of protest from his prisoner. He pulled his tongue back out just before the Doctor's teeth came down around it. The kiss ended there, as the Master slowly moved away, a string of saliva breaking between the two of them. The Doctor let his head lay limp to the side, watching the Master's every move from the corner of those pitiful eyes. A small bead of liquid dribbled down his chin, his mouth remaining open and still stunned from what had just happened.

The Master smiled, his mind elsewhere as he stared at his baffled Doctor. **"True self?"** he chuckled, his eyes showing no mercy. **"Seems you aren't with the times, Doctor."** The Master let the chair fall back into its normal upright position, sending a strong vibration through its occupant as it hit the ground, the _clang_ echoing through the darkness. The Doctor let out a grunt followed by an inhale through his teeth at the sudden impact, the chair threatening to fall further but eventually rocking back to where it was supposed to be. Licking the remaining taste of the Doctor off of his lips, the Master closed his eyes and happily thought of all the things he could do to his old friend while he was in such a perfect spot. His grin grew and he made a satisfied hum, his stomach churning with anticipation. His eyes snapped open and he left the Doctor no time to prepare for his next move.

He struck him hard, right in the same spot as before. It was already beginning to bruise, and would be tender by now. The Doctor let out a squeak-like exclaim, a few tears coming to those empty eyes. The Master struck him again, this time even harder. He couldn't keep the insane, growing smile off of his face as he beat the rewarding sounds of pain out of the Doctor. After three more blows the Doctor's face was red with the hand marks of the Master, his lower jaw beginning to darken more than before, turning purple. All the hope had been creamed out of his richly dark eyes; completely hollowed now. The Master stepped forward and jerked the Doctor's head upwards, his own eyes widening with madness as he lost himself in their depths, drinking in the Doctor's misery hungrily. The Doctor winced at the sharp slice of pain he received as his head was turned, his skin fragile. His hands, although freed, lay weak and limp at the sides of the cold metal chair. His breath came in broken gasps, each inhale stinging either his chewed lip or his burned nose. For the Doctor every waking moment as of then was agony, whether it be breathing or even moving his eyes, which stung with his own salty tears. The beat of his hearts echoed louder and louder in his ears, never ending- _bumbumbum-bum, bumbumbum-bum, bumbumbum-bum..._

The Master stood there and watched, knowing each second was torture for the timelord at his disposal. His grinning refused to stop and continued widening at each time the Doctor winced or took a sharp inhale, continuous torment doing the Master's work for him. It was wonderfully entertaining. Insane glee churned in the pit of his stomach, urging him to continue; make the Doctor submit to him. The Master leaned forward, painstakingly slow, as he watched the Doctor's fear grow with each inch of space that was devoured between them. The echoes of the impacts teetered off and the two were left in silence once more. **"I..."** the Master hissed in his silky voice into the Doctor's ear, **"...am your _Master_."** He paused, then leaned back and looked to the side, folding his arms.

The Doctor flinched, the movement of his tender skin causing him more distress. He felt as if he had been slapped again, but not on his poor wounded face. That tone that the Master carried was full of hate and lust and anticipation, finding its way down into the Doctor's mind and very soul. Memories flashed in his mind, and he felt internal agony when he saw what his friend had become- a maddened sadist. The Doctor saw in the Master's cold eyes the pleasure he was receiving from this, every moment of his torture. It hurt him more than any slap could, knowing that his best friend and only other timelord was truly gone. The Doctor's sad eyes looked up at the Master, as if on the verge of tears. **"Why do you like this?"** the Doctor faintly moved his head side to side, shaking as he spoke with a broken voice, his words barely a whisper. His eyes misted but he blinked back the tears, his face stinging. The Master ignored him.

The Doctor drew in a quiet breath, for if he sighed forcefully it would just hurt more. **"Master,"** he ended with a faint tone of impatience.

The Master turned around and gave a look of mock surprise. **"Oh, you were talking to _me?_ "** he asked, frowning and raising his eyebrows. Inside his grin was growing, along with the anticipation rising in his throat. He swallowed it and leaned back casually, adopting a look of interest. **"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you speak up please?"** The Master questioned all-too politely. The Doctor looked up at him, shaking slightly. He knew that the Master had heard him; he just wanted to see the Doctor in more agony. Once he was sure he had the Master's attention, the Doctor sucked it up and replied in a louder tone, **"...Master, why do you like this?"** His voice grew a bit angrier, his expression changing to show sadness. He shook his head, turning then to look away from the Master as he swallowed.

The Master developed an expression of mock confusion. He stood up straight and pretended to think, stalling the answer that he actually didn't have a clear answer for. The Master paced a small little circle in front of the Doctor. He gently and quietly turned around, stopping the circular movement, and took a small step closer to the Doctor. He looked up at the Master expectantly, that delicious fear still wavering in his eyes. The Master gave a small smile as he replied, **"Because you've always been so foolish, Doctor..."** he trailed off and sat back, looking up as he collected memories of old. The Master gave a small sigh as he continued, **"so helpless. Let's just say I... take advantage of it."** His grin expanded rapidly once more, and the Master dove toward the Doctor. He held his face still with firm hands, forcing the Doctor to look directly at him. His eyes were half closed as he whispered, **"And _you,_ "** he gave a little pause, **"are just _so_ adorable."**

And the Master came down onto the Doctor again, kissing him deeply with the Doctor accepting it, but never kissing back. His eyes remained open while the Master tortured his lips, and his hearts.

* * *

Thanks for the reads! :D (updates come sporadically!)  
CHAPTER 3 IS NEXT!!


	3. The Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor slash- suggestive behavior.

  
Author's note: minor slash- suggestive behavior.  


* * *

Fear is powerful. It makes energy surge through your veins, allowing you to be stronger and mightier than ever before. It drives you to do things you would never have done, and sometimes those things are horrible. It can make a person reckless, clever, or dangerous; or, wonderfully _pathetic._ Fear is beautiful and fierce; a fascinating combination. But fear has the strongest impact when you can see it. Wavering in their eyes, tensing their arms, making their frame tremble with the agony of anticipation. And it's oh so much better when you're the cause of it.

The Master could feel dominance with every step he took; burning with power. Any movement caused that delicious fear to flash in the Doctor's eyes, and he loved it. His old friend was still tied to the metal chair, quiet and breathing faintly with his eyes half closed. It sounded ragged; the Master had not allowed him to breathe as he kissed the air out of his lungs. The Doctor had actually passed out for a while before the Master retaliated. He could've taken advantage of the situation, but decided it would be more fun if his prisoner was awake. The Master sat back enjoying the Doctor's moments of weakness, smiling to himself. While his plaything was recovering, the Master slipped into the shadows and the creaking of wood could be heard from somewhere within them.

Fighting for air, the Doctor lay limply in his uncomfortable bindings. His ankles were still tied vulnerably apart to the legs of the chair. It felt like he was choking; he could still feel the ghost of the Master's lips on his. He drew in a gasp of air, receiving less than half of it. When he exhaled, more air left than was inhaled. He tried breathing deeper but it felt like his throat was getting tighter and tighter, depriving him of the full benefits of being able to breathe. The edges of his vision blurred and blackened, causing a feeling of dread to rise in his chest. He tried breathing deeper, but he felt his consciousness slowly slipping away. It didn't last too long, though; the Doctor eventually gained back his privilege to breathe. But enough time had elapsed for the Master to retrieve a dark cedar-wood chest from somewhere in the room. As the Doctor's vision cleared again, the Master was standing in front of him with a frightening devious smile. The Doctor looked warily at the chest, wondering what could contain it as he shuddered.

**"We're going to play a few _games,_ Doctor,"** The Master purred, his grin curling up the side of his face with malice. He lifted the chest easily, falling back onto his leather chair while keeping a watchful eye on the Doctor. He carefully opened the chest, making it a point that something interesting was inside. He dived into it, and pushed things around inside. The Doctor received a chorus of clangs, squinting. He let his wary eyes flit downward to his free hands, and he suppressed a smile as he took advantage of the Master's preoccupation to carefully undo the strap around his waist. The Doctor successfully unlatched the metal hook before he was noticed. The Master swiftly closed the chest and set it aside, along with something he had taken out of it. The Doctor froze and looked at him silently. **"Um... what games?"** He chose his words carefully. 

The Master smiled slightly at the question, tilting his head to the side. **"Well, honestly, I haven't decided yet. There's so much to choose from..."** He leaned down and quietly put the waist strap back, pausing to look up at the Doctor before he latched it. The Doctor held his gaze, his heartbeat quickening. With a crazed grin the Master jerked the hand that was holding the strap, the leather crushing the Doctor's stomach and forcing all the air out of him. He paled, his mouth gaping open as he stared at nothing in particular, his frame shaking as he fought to breathe. The Master held the leather steadily as it started to make a mark on the Doctor's skin. It was tightened another hole before the Master decided to secure it. The Doctor sat there gaping ridiculously, his eyes starting to water. He was physically unable to take in air at this point, and unable to speak or think clearly. He couldn't even close his mouth. The Master's pupils shrunk with insanity as his grin grew wider. He spun on his heel, turning to the chest and opening it briskly. Something was lifted out of it that the Doctor couldn't quite see- but he could tell that it had some sort of thong attached to it.

The Doctor only saw the item for a second, his tears blocking his vision. He could feel the blood rush to his face as he gasped for air to no avail. The Doctor's mind screamed in pain, and everything went black.

* * * * *

When he awoke again, the Doctor found that he was allowed to move his head freely. He had been tied so that his body was slightly more forward on the chair he had previously been sitting on. The Doctor took a desperate gasp for air, and found with relief that his waist strap had been loosened. But his eyes widened as he breathed in, because his gasp of air came with a mouthful of his own saliva. He looked down and around his nose in attempt to see what had happened to his mouth, but it was obscured. Going by feel, the Doctor rolled his tongue around the roof of his mouth, finding a large round sphere in the way. It was hard and felt like metal or plastic. He tried pushing his lower jaw forward, but that generated a strong pressure around the back of his neck and the side of his face. The Doctor stopped that immediately, closing his eyes and trying to push whatever it was out of his mouth. That only made the pain around the back of his neck worse, so eventually the Doctor gave up on that too. He settled on breathing through his nose as he surveyed the rest of his situation.

The room was still the same, or at least he thought it was. The Doctor could never tell when it had such general landmarks. The same light hung overhead, but dimmer now. Or was he just getting used to the glare? He couldn't remember. The darkness was still the same, being darkness; still brooding. Same chair, same bindings. Everything was fine, but why did he have this weird feeling in his stomach? It was churning like butter and raging like a storm, making the Doctor want to gag around the plastic ball in his mouth. It stabbed at pain like hunger, but caused his body to tremble in fear. 

Maybe it was because the Master was sitting across from him, twirling a shiny metal catheter.

The chest and its contents were thrown to the floor around him and his leather chair, a few of the items still in the gaping container. The Doctor's eyes grew wider with fear by the second, glancing with panic at all of the 'toys' on the cold stone floor. He saw the Master's devilish grin grow wider as the Doctor tried to shrink back, away from the crazed time lord and his dominance. This was the worst possible time to be tied to a chair with your legs spread far apart, and your hands tied behind your back. The Doctor made small movements of retaliation at first, but eventually was struggling in the bindings with pure dread. He tried everything to loosen the straps and rope, knowing that every moment of his panic rewarded the Master. The overwhelming wave of fear clouded the Doctor's thoughts, his hands becoming uncomfortably sweaty. The Doctor stopped his struggles and looked up at the Master again, his eyes pleading for mercy.

The Master stared into the Doctor's desperate eyes, his expression unchanging. He leaned back casually in his chair and closed his eyes, sighing slowly and quietly, the sound mixed with a small chuckle. The Master brought his head forward and looked around at the items on the floor around him, thinking about what he would do with them. This small movement stabbed panic into the Doctor even more, despite its insignificance. The feeling in his stomach intensified, and he felt bile rising in his throat. The Doctor swallowed it down, his throat dry and brittle. Spit bubbled around the gag in his mouth, adding to his discomfort. The Doctor squinted and grunted around the plastic, attempting to pull his hands free from behind him. The Master watched him fumbling for a few seconds, then stood up. He rose from the chair and stopped spinning the catheter, his grin fading as he adopted a serious look.

**"So, Doctor. What should we play?"** The blonde time lord started walking gracefully around the scattered items on the floor, examining a few of them individually. **"There's just _so_ much to choose from..."** Carefully, he reached inside the tipped over chest and briefly pulled out a black shock collar, shrugging and placing it back inside. He stared at it for a second then looked swiftly back up at the Doctor. **"How about we play..."** The Master trailed off for dramatic effect, **"...'Breaking the Doctor'?"**

The Doctor's dark brown eyes widened and he shook his head side to side faintly, like a shudder. He started kicking out wildly at the ropes, the metal chair rocking side to side vigorously. The Master quickly stepped forward and grabbed the chair with a firm hand, keeping it steady. He waved an accusing finger side to side. **"Now now, don't get too excited,"** the Master scolded him like a child. **"I wouldn't want you to get worn out before we got to play..."** he purred, the grin curling up the side of his face. He let go of the chair and backed away slowly, turning to observe the toys on the ground. The Doctor sat still, rigid as he kept his eyes on the Master, even though he couldn't move at all.

Eyes flaring, the Master's head turned back to the bound Doctor. His grin was smaller, but still there- more of a smirk. The blonde time lord rotated the rest of his body to face the Doctor, then proceeded to strut forward. His smirk chastened, becoming a gentle smile, filled with deceiving kindness. Wordlessly the Master untied the Doctor's waist strap, the leather falling to the sides of the metal chair. He leaned backward and rested his hand on his chin, exaggerating his thought processes as he looked the Doctor up and down. The Doctor held his gaze with worried eyes, confused as to what the Master was doing, but knowing that it couldn't be good. He stalled for a while, then decidedly reached down towards the Doctor's face. He flinched away, being reminded of his still-sore and bruised cheek. But the Master's fingers hooked around the gag strap, working at the latch. The plastic ball was lifted out of his mouth, dripping with foamy saliva residue. The Doctor inhaled, relieved that the pressure on the back of his neck was gone. The Master allowed him a moment of recovery as he set the black plastic gag on the arm of the metal chair. As the Doctor breathed, the Master leaned casually on the top of the chair, his arms folded.

The Master silently reached down his pointer finger and swirled it around the Doctor's unruly brown locks. Occasionally they got caught in the slow circular motion of his finger, tugging gently. The Master gave a low chuckle when he heard the Doctor hold his breath. Not moving the rest of his body, he reached out with his entire hand, petting the Doctor's hair like he was a dog. The Doctor didn't move, although tense and ready for what the Master was going to do next. His eyes flicked around the room nervously, searching for something to focus on instead of the gentle hand running through his hair. The Master slowly sat back up, seeing the Doctor freeze when his hand moved back. Giving a small smile, the Master leaned his chest on the top of the chair, his arms reaching around his prisoner as he carefully pulled the Doctor's red swirly tie out from under his suit. Confused, the Doctor turned to look at his tie, which had flopped over one of the Master's arms.

Still behind the chair, the blonde time lord allowed his grin to come back as his careful hands moved along the Doctor's chest, floating silently to one of the buttons. He paused, then painstakingly slowly began to unbutton the Doctor's blue vest. The Doctor arched his back in an attempt to stop the Master, his hands being tied behind his back. **"Master, stop!"** He called, his voice cracking with panic. The Doctor struggled and pulled weakly at his tied wrists. They began to burn from too much friction.

The Master's pale arms stopped moving, and his grin faltered for a second. But it bounced back more intensely as he saw a moment of opportunity. His voice went dark and cold, with absolutely no sympathy. **"Beg,"** he said simply, smiling on the inside as well as on the outside. There was a moment of silence, quiet that lasted too long. The Doctor's dark brown eyes flitted about him for half a minute or so, not knowing what to say. The Master's grin turned to a faint scowl as he reached his arm around the Doctor's neck, pulling his head backwards to rest against the metal backing of the chair. It was tilted at such an angle that he could look into the Doctor's pathetic face as he pleaded. With an abrupt tightening of his arm, the Master hissed, **" _Beg,_ Doctor. Beg me for mercy!"** He waited until the color in the Doctor's face had faded before he let go. He sucked in a mouthful of air, then immediately used it in a fit of desperation. **"Master, _please_! Don't do this, I don't deserve this, let me go, please!** As he finished the Doctor took in another breath and was about to continue, but the Master swiftly covered his mouth with a steady hand. The Doctor's voice was muffled and eventually died down and the room was silent again.

**"That's awfully sweet of you to state the obvious,"** the Master breathed in a rich tone. **"Tell me _why_ I should let you go. Because this is,"** he broke off for a moment, then continued seductively; **"... _awfully_ entertaining."** He granted himself a smile, then he took his hand off of the Doctor's lips. The bound time lord took in another breath, but loosed it, not knowing what to say. He sat in silence for a few moments, his mouth open but no words coming to his tongue. The Master smirked, then laughed. He sauntered around the chair casually, chuckling to himself at the Doctor's silence. **"What? Can't think of any reason, Doctor...?"** He examined his laser screwdriver, which he had taken out of his pocket earlier while the Doctor couldn't see, like there was something extremely interesting about it. **"So... I guess I'll just go about my business then,"** The Master commented, his voice going higher. 

The insane time lord put his laser screwdriver carefully down, then pulled off his black tie and dropped it beside the tool. He straightened his suit, then stepped forward slowly, treading carefully like the floor was covered with glass. The Master stepped smoothly around the imaginary shards, coming right up in between the Doctor's legs. The prisoner struggled a bit, squinting his eyes closed with the effort, his attempts not helping him at all. The Master quietly smiled, and leaned forward close to the Doctor's bruised face. He gave a little smile, then reached down and unbuttoned the Doctor's vest entirely. He spread it apart slightly so most of the fabric rested on the Doctor's shoulders. The Master then took a small step forward, so he was even closer.

And then he curled his hands around the hem of the Doctor's trousers.

* * *

THERE WILL BE A NEXT CHAPTER. SEE WARNING ABOVE


	4. Breaking The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THIS CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEX AND VIOLENCE.

  
Author's note: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THIS CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEX AND VIOLENCE.  


* * *

The Doctor let out a loud shout, flailing stronger than ever before. He successfully stalled the Master's hand from unclothing him, but his legs were still tied, along with his hands. It was extremely tiring to fight back with all of your limbs immobile. For this reason the Doctor stopped to regain his energy, lest he need it again in any other dire situation. The Master stared down at him, anger playing across his face. The Doctor was met with another stinging hand on the opposite cheek, so forceful that he could feel the imprint of each finger tingling for multiple minutes afterward. His chest heaved as he fought to gain control over himself. **"Because I won't let you!"** he gasped out in between breaths. The rise and fall of his chest became slower and more controlled. The Doctor swallowed and turned his body back to its normal centered position after it had been derailed because of the slap.

The Master snorted. **" _You_? Wont' let _me?_ "** he shook his head and chuckled, folding his arms and stepping back. **"Oh, my Dear Doctor. Have you not seen the position you're in?"** The Master gestured to the Doctor, and how he was tied to a chair and barely able to move. He allowed a moment of pause, then looked around himself and gestured with his hand at all of the things on the floor. **"And look at the position I'm in! Do you _really_ think you stand a _chance_?"** He laughed a little bit, then turned to look at the toys more carefully. The Master leaned down and picked up a manticore, turning on his heel to face the Doctor with a crazed, toothy grin. Satisfied with the hope he had sliced out of the Doctor, the Master approached his plaything once more and took on his snake-like voice.

**"So why not just cooperate while we play our little game? It'll make everything _so_ much easier."** The Master reached forward again, the manticore in the other hand. He paused as the Doctor flinched away, then he furrowed his brow and looked at the manticore. With a little smile, the Master locked his hand around the Doctor's neck, forcing his mouth to open. He shoved the manticore down the Doctor's contracted throat, dropping both his hands and leaving the toy there as he chuckled, **"Hold this."** The Doctor gagged as on reflex, but he couldn't get the toy out. It was even worse than having the ball gag forcing saliva out of his mouth. The metal was cold and the end of it pressed on the inside of his esophagus. Sweat dripping off of his brow, the Doctor looked down at the Master, who was unzipping his blue trousers. He weakly struggled, but now it was almost impossible to breathe and he didn't want to risk passing out again. The Doctor sucked in a breath through his nose and closed his eyes tightly, praying that the Master would see reason.

No such luck.

The Master didn't falter or retaliate until the Doctor was nearly nude, and only then did the Master pull the manticore out of the Doctor's throat, satisfied with his work. He turned over and looked at the manticore- it was covered in the Doctor's saliva, slick and as deadly looking as ever. The Master jerked his head up from the toy, grinning the widest grin the Doctor had ever seen him grin. His own face was the opposite, filled with dread and fear as he tried to shrink away, trying desperately not to look at his old friend. He kept muttering under his breath for the Master to realize what he was doing, and stop. The Doctor needed a miracle, but not even miracles knew where the two time lords were; hidden in this dark, desolate room. The churning in his stomach started to creep up his throat, burning his sides. It had come to this at last; what the Master had been aiming to do this entire time. Everything else had just been icing on the cake. 

The dripping metal manticore was silently set on the side of the Doctor's chair.

The Master reached forward and placed his hands gently on the Doctor's knees. The Doctor jerked away, obviously having expected a movement more aggressive. His head tilted away, every part of him doing its best to escape. He looked at the Master through the corner of his eye, his adam's apple moving as he tried to swallow his fears. With a small, barely noticeable smile, the Master circled his thumb around the Doctor's lower thigh, loosening his tightened muscles. The Doctor felt like he was melting as his legs warmed up and lost tension. He could feel himself loosing control, but as desperately as he tried to regain it, the Master was winning. Seeing the Doctor sink back into the chair, the Master moved his other hand to carefully caress the Doctor's bruised cheek. The Doctor winced at first, but the Master's gentle touch took the pain away and he couldn't help but close his eyes. His breathing slowed as he let the soft, steady hand relieve his cheek, replacing his aches with pleasure. The hopeless, captured Doctor let out a quiet sigh of comfort. Maybe the Master _had_ seen reason, maybe he was going to let him go- maybe everything would be all right, in the end.

And that's when his eyes popped right back open, tear-filled.

Something hard, cold, and extremely painful had been thrust inside of him. The Doctor's breath caught in his throat, his teeth clenched as a tear silently slid over his cheek. He shook as he slowly moved his eyes to focus on the Master, who had stopped, and was staring directly back at the Doctor with a malicious smirk playing across his face. The manticore was no longer on the arm rest, that was for sure. The Doctor opened and closed his lower jaw, unable to speak. Even if he could, the words would most certainly not have come. All that ended up being heard was the sound of the Doctor's held breath being released. The Master kept staring him down, his cold eyes burning holes into the Doctor's soul. The Doctor couldn't take his eyes away, so he just swallowed again and let out the same forced breath. The entire room was deathly silent. The last two time lords sat in the silence, one weak and one full of power. The weak one knew he couldn't do anything to save himself, his heart breaking when he looked deep into the Master's eyes and saw no sympathy whatsoever. The Master _liked_ this.

It seemed like the Doctor was about to say something, but just before any sound could come out of his open mouth the Master abruptly pulled the manticore back out. The spikes sliced the Doctor's walls, causing him to scream in pain. The Master had withdrawn the entire toy before he rammed it back in. The Doctor let out another sharp cry, accompanied by a few more tears. He squinted his eyes shut, his face screwed up by grief and agony. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps, his passage raw and probably bleeding. The Master timed the pulling out so that it gave the Doctor the greatest height of pain possible, after the spikes had dug their way into his flesh and would rake his inside on its way out. There were four more abrupt, slow thrusts, each accompanied by a shriek of pain from the Doctor. Each yell was like music to the Master's ears. After the last time, the blonde time lord flung the manticore halfway across the room instead of pushing back in. He stood up and gave the Doctor a little smile and a wink as he stepped gleefully up to the chest, looking around at the things on the floor and putting his hands on his hips, trying to decide what to do next.

He stepped up to the cedar wood chest, opening it and reaching his arm in to search it. Almost all of the Master's arm delved into the chest, rattling around and tossing a few items out. He was muttering to himself the names of the items, and the Doctor leaned forward a bit- with much difficulty- to hear what he was saying. **"Rope? No... flogger? Maybe... taser, hm; might try Parilla... thumbscrew... is that a fork?"** The Master momentarily paused as he moved his head closer, like he was trying to look at something that was out of reach. He shook his head and backed out of the chest. The Master immediately looked back in with sudden interest. **"Well well, now that _is_ interesting!"** he reached deep into it, eventually pulling out a pear-shaped claw with a screw where the stem would be. The Master stood up and set the chest down, walking over to the Doctor as he turned the device over in his hands. **"They call this a choke-pear..."** he smirked as he twisted the knob, and the claws expanded. **"I heard a little rumor about you not liking pears,"** the Master flexed the pear-shaped device a couple times in a menacing way.

**"No thank you,"** the Doctor looked at the mechanism, making sure his mouth was closed. The Master sighed, and set the golden-metal pear on the side of the Doctor's chair. **"You're no fun, Doctor."** he complained grumpily, twirling his fingers around themselves in thought. Conclusively, he paced his way back to the cedar wood chest. The Doctor let out a happy sigh as he released his held breath. Maybe there _was_ a way out of this mess, if he had succeeded in stalling the Master's advancements. Placidly, the Master heaved up the chest into his arms, delving one of them into the chest once more. Things rattled around inside; metallic noise as the various items collided with each other. The Master grabbed a few things without looking and lithely pounced so he was right back in front of the Doctor. The bound time lord winced, stinging and still in intense pain. He dared to close his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a moment to be in agony. He forgot that you should never close your eyes in front of an insane, lust-filled time lord who was most certainly not finished yet.

In an incredibly small amount of time, the Doctor's hands and legs were suddenly untied. The Doctor popped his eyes open as fast as he could, but the work had been done and the Master was nowhere to be seen. Before the Doctor could process what had just happened, the chair he was sitting in was tilted forward violently, sending the Doctor falling forward to the hard ground. His body crumpled as it met the floor, the shock having been absorbed mostly by his face. The coldness of the stone was even worse than the metal, which had been warmed the longer he sat there. A loud clang sounded in the Doctor's ears, which he assumed was the metal chair being tossed aside. His thoughts were jumbled and random, and he couldn't grasp a clear mind. He could feel his pulse pounding so loudly in his skull that he almost couldn't hear anything else. It was driving him insane. The Doctor's body shivered from pain and cold, his limbs numb and immobile. He knew that this was a chance to get up and run off, but the moment of regular breathing was just too wonderful that it had to be cherished.

But it ended all to quickly, his precious breaths being stolen from him in a heartbeat. Something was deep inside of him, but it wasn't the manticore and definitely not the choke-pear. The pounding in his head froze and everything was deadly silent. There was no breathing, no heartbeat, no wind to whistle through the darkness. He was alone, with his fate in the Master's hands. The moment stretched out for what seemed like forever, seeming like time had simply frozen. His chest felt like it was imploding at the same time that he was choking. But then the Doctor's thoughts mingled and the pounding came back again; the world delving into madness. The pain was overwhelming, and what was inside of him somehow managed to move deeper and deeper, the torture intensifying. The Doctor tried to move his pounding head to see, but there was an abrupt thrust inward, knocking the wind out of him and making the edges of his vision go black. The Doctor closed his mouth with considerable effort in an attempt to suck in a breath, tasting blood as well as saliva.

A sharp breath was managed, but the tang of his own blood made the breath catch in his throat, while he was almost unable to swallow. The Doctor spat it out and took back his well-earned breath. Still shaking, he managed to turn his head to the side and catch a glimpse of what was happening out of the corner of his desperate eyes. All he saw was the blonde hair and the dark outfit, and no further questions needed to be asked. The Master had noticed the Doctor's face, and turned his maddened grin towards him. The Doctor flinched and tried to move his head back, but his shoulders had sunk forward, and he would've had to move backwards to give his head room to turn around. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. The Master leaned back with a laugh, giving the Doctor a new wave of pain. He let out a thin wail, his eyes squeezing shut in reaction to the change in pressure. 

The Master wasted no time, the drum beat was speeding up and so was he. His smile didn't falter as it steadily grew wider, until it was simply unnatural. And even then it kept growing. The pathetic Doctor was crying and exclaiming in pain now. The Master noticed that he was coughing up blood now and then. The Master pulled something out of his pocket as his pupils shrunk with insanity. It glinted in the light that shone over head. The Doctor's eyes widened in horror and his mouth gaped open, but he was still unable to speak. The Master returned the gaze with eyes that held no mercy. He slowly lowered the blade to touch the Doctor's back, and it arched downward to avoid the sharp metal. He brought down a steady hand to grasp the Doctor's waist, feeling the gentle shaking of the Doctor's spine from the strain of his position. The Master could feel the Doctor's muscles immediately tense and the shaking intensify. He gave a little chuckle of dominance.

The Master gently tapped the blade on the Doctor's tensed flesh. His victim flinched at each contact, sending glee coursing through the Master. His smile continuing to grow, he slanted the sharp edge inward, resting it against the Doctor's back. He slowly pushed the edge down and it broke the Doctor's skin almost immediately, warm, scarlet blood welling up at the wound. The Doctor let out a cry of pain, and he tried to move away from the Master, but the blonde time lord grappled his waist and shoved the Doctor violently back onto him, forcing a squeak out of his mouth. Happily he began to draw a swirling, twisting line on the Doctor's back with the sharp blade, which was becoming stained. He chuckled as the blood spilled out of the wound in round, deep red beads. The Master ran a gentle hand down the Doctor's shivering and slitted back, smearing the liquid into red, sticky streaks. His hand dripped with the Doctor's crimson blood.

Satisfied, the Master continued his rhythm and intensified, laughing inwardly with malice each time the Doctor let out a whimper. The Doctor's pained and bruised face turned to look at the Master, his eyes dry and completely empty. There was nothing but the dark, chocolate brown color of them. His mouth dripped with blood, and mixed with the tears he had shed on the stone floor. The Doctor was ragged, torn, bloodied, and empty. The Master could see The Doctor's hearts falling to pieces.

The Doctor was broken.

* * *

-for all those who know me; I intended to write this kind of fanfiction, yes, and no, I will not make it anything less than what I intended.-


End file.
